Hoppípolla: Omake
by Reinamy
Summary: This is a compilation of extras/interludes/vignettes from my story "Hoppípolla." Ratings, warnings, and genres will vary.
1. Sensation (post 1x02)

**About this story - **This is a compilation of extras/interludes/vignettes from my story "Hoppípolla". Ratings, genres, and warnings will vary. If you aren't reading "Hoppípolla", the following stories probably won't make much sense, I'm afraid.

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**Title: **Sensation

**Rating: **G

**Placement: **Set shortly after chapter 1x02.

**Characters: **Sai, Harria, mentions of Hikaru

**Summary: **In which Harria gives Sai something invaluable, and Sai tries to give something back.

**Author's Note: **This came into being because **Always-the-Blood** made an inquiry regarding Harria's ability to touch Sai. I have no recollection of Hikaru ever touching Sai in the series, so do pardon any canonical inconsistencies.

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_**SENSATION**_

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Words are inadequate to describe the stretches of time he's trapped in the wood confines of his goban, the same way a painting can never hope to encompass the same brilliance and vastness of a starlit sky, or a poem can only dream to capture the terribleness of death.

In his hundreds of years of not-life, Sai can only compare it to the vague recollections he has of dreaming. Of watching oneself maneuver in a realm of nightmares, trapped by the barriers of one's subconscious and plagued by monsters conjured by one's own imaginings.

As a human, Sai would scream until the Dream Gods released him from his mental prison and he could rejoin the waking world—a world so vibrant and rich that the nightmare, a pale mimicry in comparison, fades away, forgotten.

As a ghost, he is no longer within the Dream Gods' jurisdiction, and Sai's screams fall on deaf ears. The waking world is lost to him, and all that remains is the world of dreams, with its muted colors and absent scents and muffled sounds, and he, an imposter looking in.

When a boy happens upon his goban—once his most treasured possession, now his reviled cage—and hears him, and sees him, and acknowledges that Sai _exists_, his relief is so immense that it spills from his eyes, nearly drowns him.

Life with Hikaru is wonderful. The world he rediscovers is so different from what he remembers, in some ways intriguing and other ways disquieting, and even though his human host has zero interest in Go (to Sai's dismay) and only slightly more interest in letting him play, it's _fine. _Because he's _free_.

For whatever reason, God saw fit to wake him, and even though he's little more than a sliver of a dream deposited in the waking world, a shadow made to trail behind real flesh, it's so much more than he's had since his beloved Torajirou died.

And if, at times, he mourns the loss of three of his five senses, all he has to do is remember what it's like to be asleep-but-not, a caged nonentity, _all alone_, and the gratitude is enough to dispel the bitterness.

For all his age and experience with the uncanny, Sai could never have predicted Potter Harria—the strange, foreign girl whose speech predates the era, and whose eyes are incongruent with her age, and who has a presence so large it exceeds the constrains of her small stature, like a genie in a lamp.

She's a pleasant addition to their duo (however much Hikaru likes to complain) and Sai is happy enough that there is someone _else _who can hear him, and speak with him, and validate his existence. That she also plays Go and is perfectly willing to indulge his obsession is just another stroke of good fortune.

It isn't until Harria pinches his cheek one day _and her hand doesn't go through him_ that Sai realizes just how fortunate he actually is.

She touches him, and he can_ feel it._ Not the phantom touch he experiences when his human host swipes at him, or the jarring, icy sensation of being stepped through, but real, _startlingly_ _real, _touch.

After so long of being without, the warmth of her fingertips feels like the glowing point of a heated blade set against his skin, branding him, still hot even after she pulls away. Her fingers were punishing and the pinch had hurt, and yet he can't remember feeling anything more amazing in his life.

He weeps, and the embrace she envelops him in afterward feels even better.

Further investigation into the phenomenon reveals that _she _is the anomaly; the rift in the fabric separating him from the world. Sai cannot feel the clothes she wears or the items she holds—to his hands they are like everything else, incapable of being touched—but he can feel _her_; her skin and nails when she holds his hand, and her hair when he combs his fingers through it, twists it into intricate knots and braids. And perhaps it isn't the smoothness of stones, or the ridged lines on a goban, or the rustle of a brimming go-ke, but it's still wonderful. So, so wonderful.

Harria becomes his new obsession. Or rather—touching her, which he does as often as possible, sometimes without being conscious of it. He worries, at first, that he might be overstepping his bounds and making her uncomfortable—dead or not, he is still a man; and otherworldly or not, she is still a woman—but she never seems to mind, entwining their fingers when he captures her hand, and leaning into him when he tangles his fingers into her hair, and kissing his forehead when he's deep in a sulk.

It isn't until she tells him about her past that he comprehends why she's so very indulgent of his considerably inappropriate whims. Harria _understands. _Perhaps not what it feels like to be bodiless, but to lose an important aspect of what makes one human, and the marvel of it being regained. That realization, that kinship, snaps the shackles on his restraint, emboldens him, and Harria adapts to his increased tactility with characteristic aplomb.

It's takes him a little while longer to figure out that she's not accommodating him for his sake alone; she's just as desperate for touch, just as starved for affection, and yearns just as strongly for communion, as he. And that's another barrier that falls away—the last, kept in place so that he wouldn't take more than she's willing to give. Because suddenly he's not just taking anymore; he's giving, too, and that makes all the difference.

While Sai's hope is heart-deep, he isn't naïve enough to believe he has forever. He's on borrowed time. He can't stay, no matter how many bonds he establishes and lives he affects, or how deeply his prayers seep into the earth and tightens around its center.

One day—hopefully far into the future—he'll be ripped away, forced to leave behind the things he finds most precious, old and new, to a fate unknown. But until that dreaded time comes, Sai will indulge in his rejuvenated sense of touch as often as he can.

For himself, and for her.

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_**owari**_

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**A/N:** I'm sure some of you have cottoned onto the awkward issue of Sai being able to touch Harria but not, for example, her clothing. Yeah, I don't know what to tell you. I guess they'd just have to be really careful about touching in certain ways. As for the reverse, Harria can feel _his_ clothing because they're a part of him. So while frontal hugs are on the table because of the excessively thick layers of Sai's robes, he'd have to be careful with, for example, placing his hand near her chest (not that he ever would!).

Anyway, thanks for reading. Feedback is welcome, as always. Ciao!


	2. Enquiring Minds (post 1x05)

**Title: **Enquiring Minds

**Rating: **G

**Placement: **Set several days after chapter 1x05.

**Characters: **Harria, Hikaru, Sai

**Summary: **In which Hikaru and Sai realize that money doesn't grow on trees…not even for dimension-hopping magical aliens named Harria.

**Author's Note: **Just a not-so-little something about Hikaru and Sai trying to solve one of the many mysteries surrounding Harria.

**P.S. - **I haven't posted chapter 1x05 yet (OTL) but reading that isn't necessary to understand this omake. The only thing you need to know is that in this point in time, Hikaru is aware that Harria isn't exactly human. This is just a flangst-y filler and not integral to the plot in any way.

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_**ENQUIRING MINDS **_

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"How do you _do _that?" Hikaru asks one day.

Harria, rolling a tootsie-pop in her mouth, cranes her neck and lets it fall out with an obscene _pop. _She ignores the way Hikaru blushes and stares at her lips and says, "How do I do what?"

"That!" He points to the wad of cash in her hand, which is carefully being separated and distributed to the video store cashier. "You always have cash yet you don't even have a job! Where the heck does it come from?"

The previously disinterested cashier is looking at them with piqued interest now, and Harria resists the urge to flick Hikaru over the forehead for his carelessness. Instead she settles for saying, "Of course I have a job, Hikaru," as she hands over the appropriate sum of money, pockets the rest, and grabs the bulging bag of DVDs, canned soda, and candy.

It's not a lie.

"What do you mean you have a job?" Hikaru demands, dogging her steps as she winds through the aisles and exits the store. He nearly trips over his untied shoelaces, but Harria throws a hand out to steady him before he can kiss the ground. Undeterred, he continues, "That's impossible! You _can't _have a job, you're _always_ with us!"

"He brings up a very valid point, Harria," Sai pipes up, though not before demanding that Hikaru tie his shoes, which the boy does, dropping to the ground with an aggrieved huff.

She doesn't allow even a trace of her amusement to show as she says, "Always? Is that so?"

The way Hikaru halts in his movements and Sai gives her a baffled look makes her lips twitch. Harria ignores their befuddled gazes and continues down the block, taking advantage of their confusion to appreciate the dusk.

Despite the late hour and later season the city is warm, more suitable for spring than autumn. The sky is a fusion of crimson, indigo, and gold, and what remains of the dwindling sunlight sets the rustling treetops aglow. As Harria stops at the edge of the street, mindful of the streetlight and the passing cars even though her face is turned towards the burning horizon, she's reminded of the many other sunsets she's witnessed, the thousands of them, the millions.

Harria has been to worlds with orange skies, with fuchsia stars, with paper cut-out clouds. She's been to worlds with many suns, worlds with suns in unique shapes, and backwards worlds where the sky was the ground at your feet.

And yet, despite the many differences, the atmosphere of the setting sun remains the same.

The light changes, and Harria crosses the street. Hikaru and Sai are at her side by the time her feet hits the curb, questions aplenty shooting from their mouths. They look ridiculous, expressions confused and gesticulations wild, and Harria feels something warm bloom in her chest, chasing away the cold that had settled there. Unbidden, she smiles.

"—doesn't make sense," Hikaru is saying, peering at her suspiciously. "You're_ always_ with us! Tell her, Sai!"

"He's right," the ghost obliges. "You are."

"Is that so?" Harria repeats in amusement, just to rile them up.

"Gah, stop saying that!" Hikaru cries. A look of realization crosses his face, and he makes a triumphant noise and points at her. "I know what you're doing! You're trying to get us off your scent by making us second-guess ourselves! Well, it won't work! We're onto you, Harria!"

Passerby's stare at Hikaru's theatrics, some going as far as to ease around him like his weirdness might be contagious, and that's it. Harria can't hold it in anymore. She throws her head back and laughs, unrepentantly loud, and louder still when Hikaru shushes her because, _"People are starting to stare, Harria! Shh!" _

After a moment she brings her hands up to wipe at the tears gathering at the corners of her eyes, and tries to rein in her humor. The incredulous stares of Sai and Hikaru nearly sets her off again, but she manages to stomp it down before it can become another full-blown laugh.

An exhale, and then her feet are moving again.

Hikaru side-eyes her. "What was that about?"

"Nothing." At Hikaru and Sai's combined disbelief, she snorts and waves an airy hand. "Really, don't worry about it."

"Riiiight," Hikaru mutters.

From the corner of her eye she catches Sai and Hikaru share a pointed look. Silent conversation is exchanged before they round on her. "Don't think we've forgotten about our previous discussion," Sai tells her sternly.

"Yeah! What do you do? C'mon, just tell us!"

"We're probably going to find out anyway!"

"Unless it's illegal. Wait, _is _it illegal?" Hikaru asks, sounding caught between worry and intrigue.

"Hikaru! Of course it isn't illegal!" He pauses, glances at Harria, and says uncertainly, "Right?"

"Hm," Harria hums thoughtfully, inwardly enjoying the way their eyes widen. "Illegal? I guess that depends on your perspective."

"Wait, wait, wait!" Hikaru says, and steps in front of her with raised hands to make her halt. "Perspective? What does that even _mean_?"

"Well, Hikaru, the word _perspective_ has several meanings, but in this instance the most appropriate would be—"

"I know what the word means, Harria!" Hikaru snaps, annoyed.

Beside them, Sai stifles a laugh.

"My apologies then, 'Karu-chan," she says mildly, then walks around him.

Hikaru groans and trails after her. "Why are you being so difficult? Why won't you just tell us? It can't be _that _bad, right? I mean, it's _you. _You wouldn't do anything _really_ terrible, like rob banks or steal from old ladies. C'mon, Harria!"

Sai, appearing at her side, chuckles quietly. "I think you best tell him before he gets a—what was it called again? An aneurism?"

With the way Hikaru is clutching his head and alternating between flinging questions at her and muttering nonsensically to himself, Harria figures he might be right.

"Such faith in my morality," she muses aloud, tossing one arm around Hikaru's shoulders and reeling him in. He struggles against her hold, but she doesn't let up. "I'm afraid you're going to be disappointed."

That rewards her expectant, if slightly apprehensive, looks.

She laughs and takes mercy on them. Casually, she says, "I gamble."

"You…gamble?" Hikaru says slowly, slowing down and forcing them both to stop.

Sai cocks his head to the side, not unlike a curious bird. "You mean like in that anime Hikaru watches? With the…colorful chips?"

"Sometimes it's like that, yes," she agrees.

"But…where? How? _When_?"

"Where? Several places in Japan. It's not smart visiting the same place multiple times. How? That's a loaded question; I'll tell you later. As for when—" she continues, talking over Hikaru when he makes to protest, "—at night, obviously. I always win, so I don't have to go out often. Maybe once a month, at most."

She pauses, taking in their slack jaws and wide eyes. "You asked," she reminds them, before walking on ahead. After adjusting the bag hanging from her arm and stuffing her hands into her pockets, she starts the countdown.

_One, two, three, four…_

"Harria!"

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_**owari.**_

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**A/N:** Harria's means of making money isn't very original, I know, but it was the only thing I could think of that was very lucrative, low-key, and wouldn't take up more than a few hours a month. Also, I just really liked the idea of her visiting bars/casinos and totally pwning seasoned gamblers and walking away with pockets full of cash. I may or may not have been watching a particular episode of _Supernatural_ (where Dean hussles some thugs in a bar) while I was writing this...

Anyway! I hope you all enjoyed reading this. Please don't forget to drop a comment on your way out!


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